


The ghost only he can see

by Liv_6930



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liv_6930/pseuds/Liv_6930
Summary: What if Voldemort had become a ghost after the war and had decided to haunt Harry?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66





	The ghost only he can see

The moon was shining brightly in the sky and the other students were all fast asleep. Apart from their light snoring, not a single sound could be heard in the dorm. Harry alone was lying awake in his bed, unable to find sleep.

One might wonder why. The gryffindor had killed Voldemort and fulfilled his destiny at last. He should have been able to finally let the past behind him, to start a happier chapter of his life. And yet, the boy thought, as he glanced warily at the shadow standing beside his bed, moving on was proving to be much more difficult than he ever imagined.

The day everything went wrong was still vivid in his mind.

_Comfortably sitting in an armchair, Hermione was reading the daily prophet (which was still trash but at least wasn’t under Voldemort’s influence anymore). Meanwhile, the two boys were playing wizarding chess. Harry was losing, of course, but he was actually putting up a good fight for once._

_“After playing against me for seven years, I’d be worried if you weren’t,” Ron laughed. “I can’t believe how rubbish at it you were back then.”_

_“Hey!” Harry protested, feigning outrage._

_He had been about to defend his skills at chess when he saw him. From the back of the room, Voldemort was staring at him. The man’s expression had been vacant but, when their gazes met, his eyes immediately became hungry._

_In his surprise, Harry didn’t even try to grab his wand. Like an idiot, he remained frozen, a whirlwind of denial going through his mind: He can’t be alive, it’s not possible, I saw his corpse, his horcruxes are gone, he can’t be alive…._

__

_After a few seconds of pure panic, the storm stopped and Harry began to think logically again. The man standing in front of him was transparent and colorless, a little like the horcruxes when they took a humanoid form, but somehow different. Besides, he didn’t look like any of the horcruxes he had seen. He looked like the Voldemort he had fought but… less broken. It was the only way to describe it._

_No, Voldemort wasn’t alive, Harry realized. He was back as a ghost._

_The realization didn’t calm him at all and his horror must have been visible on his face because Ron immediately turned around to follow his gaze. Harry waited but the expected panic never came. Instead, his friend just looked confused and shot him an interrogative glance. It didn’t dawn on Harry until he noticed that Hermione, too, had looked up and seemed perplexed._

_“You don’t see him,” he whispered._

_His friends seemed to be growing more and more concerned by the minute._

_“See who?” Hermione asked a little impatiently._

_At that moment, Harry could have told them the truth. He knew they wouldn’t have judged him. It wasn’t the first time he could see or hear things others couldn’t after all. And yet he found himself answering, almost despite himself, “Nobody.”_

The following day, Harry asked to see Voldemort’s corpse, just to be sure, but nothing was wrong with it. Meanwhile, the ghost - or whatever this thing was - never seemed to leave his side. At every hour of the day, Harry could feel his vengeful gaze on him. Of course, the gryffindor tried to talk to him but Voldemort never answered. All he did was follow his murderer with a hollow expression contrasted by his bright eyes. And even though Harry knew it wasn’t possible, he could swear they flashed red sometimes. 

Tonight was no different. For the millionth time, Harry asked “ What do you want from me?” 

Only silence answered him. 

It was a bit of a stupid question anyway, Harry thougth. The boy-who-lived had killed Voldemort, making the man’s worst fear become a reality. The only thing the fallen Dark Lord could want from him was his death. And, in the dead of night, Harry couldn’t help but ask himself if he was supposed to let the ghost take him, if Fate was angry that the boy-who-lived had escaped death in the forbidden forest, if Voldemort and Harry Potter were truly meant to die together. 

The dawn seemed so far away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> The first chapter is short because I want to see if people like the idea. Feel free to review!


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